


Daylight

by ChocolateAndDragons



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Cute, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Not Beta Read, Self-Indulgent, to heal you from all the iwaoi angst out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateAndDragons/pseuds/ChocolateAndDragons
Summary: The rare mornings in which both he and Tooru are home are some of Hajime's favorites.Fluffy, domestic IwaOi on a lazy Sunday- with a twist.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 8
Kudos: 117





	Daylight

Oikawa is beautiful, yes, he knows.

Yet in the high of this Sunday morning, when shallow streams of sunlight slip through blinds, shy and delicate as they play across his sleeping face, Hajime thinks he must be more. 

_Tooru,_ his heart whispers. There is some greater meaning to that name, a feeling attached that he can’t quite describe, something lifelong and unwavering- trust, except it brings him such joy, such tranquil, piercing him in the form of early mornings, late movie nights, volleyball, _Tooru_ , that it can’t just quite be that. More, it must be more.

_It’s Tooru. It always has been,_ his heart sings again, and this time he easily accepts the answer, especially when Tooru stirs, turns over to face him and gazes up at him sleepily with an instant smile.

Love has always come to Hajime under the name of Tooru, Oikawa, Shittykawa even, and whatever other crude nicknames he’s been dubbed. Simply him, not the extravagant grandeur Tooru likes to pretend he is, but the easy figure he is now with unkempt hair and ridiculous alien pajama pants, unconsciously beaming.

Despite that, it’s not a particularly bright expression, more so soft, but Hajime doesn’t want blinding grins from Tooru anyway- all the light is used up on his sparkling teeth, there never being quite enough left over to reach his eyes. He much prefers the expression that lights Tooru’s face now: tired eyes gleaming with a tranquil admiration and wrinkling at the edges, a subtle, content tug of his lips with that dimple on his left cheek that Hajime loves to brush his thumb across. Perhaps it’s selfish to be pleased that Tooru reserves these smiles for Hajime and only Hajime, but the warm, soothing feeling that spills across his chest is a drug he can’t resist.

Tooru’s hand reaches up, cups his faces and traces the lines of Hajime’s smile. “Good morning?” He asks teasingly, voice muted and sweet.

“Yeah,” Hajime’s fingers curl around Tooru’s as he lies back down, their faces mere inches away. 

“You’re beautiful,” Tooru whispers, as if the early hour is drawing secrets from his sun kissed lips. 

Hajime has never been one for compliments; they’ve always been accepted with simple nod and _thank you_ , He does not relish in praise, yet from Tooru, the soft spoken words- so unlike his casual remarks and melodramatic choruses of flattery- elicit a delighted smile all the same. _I’m beautiful,_ he thinks because Tooru, despite his intricacies and elusive words, makes only bold claims to Hajime, declarations he’s willing to put his life behind.

  
“You are, too,” Hajime whispers back, unable to find an insult that quite grasps his appreciation. Of course, Tooru’s eyes only gain a mischievous glint.

“I know, Iwa-chan. I’m the best thing you’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

What else did he expect? Hajime scoffs, grumbling without even a hint of malice as he shifts closer. “You’re a piece of shit.”

Tooru merely laughs in response to the lackluster insult, a soft tinkle with his face buried against his boyfriend’s chest. Hajime’s calloused hand rises to his hair, weaving circles in his chestnut brown waves and evoking a content sigh from Tooru.

“Let’s just stay here all day,” Tooru murmurs absentmindedly, wrapping at arm around Hajime’s waist and burrowing himself deeper into the blankets.

“Let’s just stay forever.” The words slip out, slyly avoiding Hajime’s filter. He blames his sleep muddled brain, but personally, the thought is not far fetched, 23 years and infinity not quite having the distance others seem to see to Hajime.

“If you’re planning on proposing, Iwa-chan, please wait until I change out of my pajamas,” Tooru quips.

“I wasn’t- I- you-” He’s cut off by Tooru’s boisterous laughter, who has flipped onto his back, arms clutching his stomach. “Shut up!”

Hajime, caught by a fit of aggression, pivots onto his stomach, propped up by his elbows. His arms snake out, fingers poking at Tooru’s sides, tickling him.

“But Iwa- Ah, stop! That’s not fair- Hey!” He chokes out breathy protests between bubbly laughter and playful shrieks, flailing and swatting at Hajime’s arms. Desperate and unaware, Tooru flips away from Hajime, rolling right off the edge of the bed with a yelp. 

Hajime surges forward, barely managing to seize his shoulders in time, though it leaves them in an awkward position, Tooru’s upper body dangling off the mattress and Hajime precariously leaning over him.

“You dumbass.” Tooru keeps laughing; _glows_ at him, face ethereal and pale skin highlighted by glittering streaks of radiance and sun. Hajime’s breath hitches, brows furrowing together as he internally curses his boyfriend. _If you keep making my heart flutter like this I’m going to end up accidentally dropping you, asshole._

  
His other hand had already been firmly planted on the ground, breaking any awkward tumble he might’ve taken, but such trivial details could never keep Tooru from his theatrical fawning. He blows Hajime a kiss. “My hero, what would I ever do without you-”

“I’ll drop you,” Hajime threatens, but he hooks his arm around Tooru’s waist and pulls him up instead.

“Sure you will, Iwa-cha- HAJIME, NO!” Hajime shoves his boyfriend back towards the hardwood floor, Tooru in turn shrieking and latching himself onto his boyfriend’s arm. He pouts, crossing his arms when Hajime leans back on his hands, head thrown back in laughter. “Iwa-chan!” Hajime only continues, ignoring him. “Iwa-chan, if you don’t stop laughing at me I’m going to hide your Godzilla movies.”

Hajime freezes, slowly sitting forward to stare at Tooru with a mixture of apprehension and defiance. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would.” Tooru matches his gaze stubbornly, chocolate brown fiercely meeting forest green in a silent battle.

When the insistent ticking of the clock becomes loud enough to rattle his head, Tooru feels himself falter, questioning Hajime’s adamant expression, far too aggressive for an issue so insignificant. It wasn’t like they were arguing about aliens.

“...Okay, so maybe I’ll forgive you if you make breakfast.”

Hajime grins triumphantly, “Waffles it is.”

Tooru guffaws. “ _Pancakes._ ”

“Mm, I prefer waffles.” He shakes his head, and Tooru presses a hand to his heart.

“Iwa-chan, you monster. I _loved_ you.”

“Waffles are superior, Shittykawa,” Hajime repeats casually, making his way to the bathroom, but Tooru stops him, dragging him off to the kitchen by his hand.

“We’re adults with priorities. We can brush our teeth when we want, Iwa-chan. Right now, we’ve got pancakes to make.”

“Waffles,” Hajime insists.

“Of course, sweetie.”

“Accept it or perish.”

“See what those horrible waffles are doing to your brain, Hajime. These violent tendencies are _obviously_ due to your unhealthy preference to waffles.”

“That’s because I’ve been dealing with decades of your brain damage, which is for sure because of your disgusting pancakes.”

“Take that back!” Pushing him lightly, Tooru makes a face, to which Hajime shrugs.

“I’m an honest man.”

“Honest, my ass.”

They bicker all the way until they reach their kitchen cupboards, at which they realize- after a frantic impromptu search party- that they in fact do _not_ have any pancake mix.

Tooru sighs drearily. “Want omelets?”

“I guess,” Hajime laments, equally disappointed. “Or…”

Tooru perks up, glum pout already washed away. “Or?”

“Or we could head out to that pancake house a couple blocks away.”

Tooru jumps up gleefully, kissing Hajime without warning. “Just marry me right now, Hajime.”

He’s already bounding off, invigorated by the promise of a satiating breakfast, but Hajime clasps onto his wrist, tugging him back and placing a slower, gentler kiss upon his lips. _I love you so much._ When he finally pulls away, a smile spreads across his face, shy yet impossibly wide.

“Why the hell not?” It’s a daring response, perhaps what others would call thoughtless, but Hajime can’t deny that it’s a subject that’s graced his mind innumerably. Marrying Tooru is as certain as the sun- It will inevitably come, so today of all days is as good as ever, among the splotches of daylight that squeeze past the blinds, painting their apartment a molting gold. 

This time, he has the luxury of watching patches of red dust across Tooru’s face and seeing his lips quirk up with glee. “That’s a horrible proposal, Hajime,” He mumbles.

“Technically, you proposed.”

“Oh…” Tooru laughs. “I guess I did... Wanna go ring shopping instead?”

“After pancakes?”

“After pancakes.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was extremely self indulgent and I absolutely loved writing it. I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing.
> 
> I honestly can't believe how many people have seen this in just two days. I love you all :D


End file.
